The End of The Solitary Man
by spottedhorse
Summary: The scene at the end of The Solitary Man always gets me. There was something in the way Dave watched Emily with that little girl...


This season of CM is great, it really is. But I miss Emily...and Dave with Emily.

R&R please.

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The End of The Solitary Man

He watched as she comforted the little girl. How many times had she done that, taken the role of protector of children? He knew that in the few short years he'd been back with the BAU, he'd lost count. That she would do that no longer surprised him. That she was so good with children still did, because outwardly she didn't give the impression that she even liked kids.

Her passion for helping the lost and wounded was what first drew him to her. He'd spent wasted months, even years, circling her light, like a moth circling a flame. And as he watched her, he wondered how many more of these could she take before it changed her, jaded her. But somewhere deep inside he understood that while she might outwardly harden to the heartbreak, inside she would always bleed. And deep within his own jaded, heartbroken core he knew that he would do whatever he could do to help her cope, pick up the pieces and if he was really lucky, maybe she'd let him do more. But he wasn't that lucky; he'd used up all his chances at that kind of luck long ago.

There were things he needed to do, follow up to be handled. But he simply stood and watched. It was as if the rest of the world had dissolved into nothingness and only Emily and the girl remained.

There was a shift, his mind taking him to a different place, one that only existed in his dreams. One where that was his child and she'd fallen, scraped her knee perhaps, and her mother was comforting her. It wasn't the first time his dreams had invaded his reality. The feeling in his gut was familiar, a gentle tug before a twitch in his heart. His ability to identify what meant more to him, the mother or the child, was non-existent. They were intricately intertwined in his imaginings. The child was his heart and the mother…his soul. How could he survive without them both?

A ringing cell phone brought him back to reality. There were things to be done, follow up to handle. Sparing himself one last glance toward his dream, he turned and walked out of the room.

The plane ride back was long and he was tired. Still, he saw the anguish in her face as she thought about the little girl. And he heard the conversation with Morgan about the good outweighing the bad. Morgan said the right things but he knew it was not enough for her. Silently, he wished he could help her, make the world seem like a better place than their reality let them believe. But she was too smart for that.

It hurt, seeing her so down. It hurt that he couldn't make it better. It hurt that he couldn't find the courage to reach across to her, to comfort her the way he wanted, the way he needed. But he was too old for her, for that dream. And that hurt too.

The plane finally landed and they all departed, each headed to their own cure for the hell of the last case. As he walked towards his car, he recognized her footsteps behind him and debated whether he should slow down and talk to her or just let it go. And then he heard her call, "hey Rossi, wait up…" And he was caught.

"Go for a drink with me?" she asked sadly hopeful.

His head told him it wasn't such a good idea, especially in light of his recent thoughts and dreams. But his heart…that was another matter. And something in his soul stirred happily. "Sure," he replied. "I'll drive."

"Huh, uh..." she nodded negatively. "I'll meet you there. That way I don't have to come all the way back out here tomorrow for my car."

Accepting the logic of it, he simply nodded. They agreed on a place and climbed into their vehicles to make the journey. As he drove to the bar, Dave Rossi's mind was whirling. Why, he asked himself. Why did she single him out for a drink? He knew what he wanted the answer to be, but he didn't dare let that hope breathe life.

They ordered their drinks and settled in at a table in the corner. He watched her, waiting for the reason for this get together…waiting to hear what it was about this case that bothered her so much; as if he didn't know already.

But she surprised him. "You ever spend much time with the _what ifs_?" she asked.

"The…_what ifs?"_

"Yeah, you know…what if one of those marriages had stuck, what if you weren't alone now, what if you had kids…" Her voice trailed off as she mentally catalogued her own what ifs.

Hr thought about her question briefly and then smirked. "Well, as for what if one of the marriages had lasted…" he sighed. "I'd be in prison now for murder."

She chuckled. "you would not," she said derisively.

He smiled. "And right now, I'm alone because I want to be. It's hard… carrying around what we do and not tarnishing someone you care about with it." His heart tightened as he remembered various arguments with his wives on the matter. Truth was, none of them could handle it but then… no one should have to.

Suddenly the light went out of her expression and the darkness covered her again. "Yeah," she said as her shoulders slumped.

Kicking himself for adding to her darkness, he tried to regain some of the previous humor. "But kids," he said, "kids, I wanted."

That got her attention. "Really?" she asked, looking stunned.

He shrugged. "Yeah. Why do you think I kept getting married?" He managed to deliver the question with a hint of humor.

He watched her turn that one over in her mind and smirked. He'd won one. And then he watched as a question formed in her mind and he waited for her to ask. "So… you've given up on that then…kids, I mean."

"Somehow, collecting my first pension check and taking my kid to the first day of kindergarten on the same day seems wrong."

She snorted into her drink. "Yeah, like you _need_ your pension…" Then the amusement faded and she looked up into his eyes. "You would've been a good father."

Oh god, he thought. Her words made his world spin. "I…I'd like to think so. But honestly, I had my head too far up my ass … if I'd only known ten or fifteen years ago what I know now."

She tilted her head, studying him. "You really aren't that guy anymore, are you?"

"No. No, I'm not," he said softly, losing himself in her eyes.

A small tremor seemed to jar her thoughts. "So, why not?"

"Why not what?" he asked as he felt himself floating away in her dark pools.

"Well, assuming the equipment is in working order," she said coyly, "it is still possible, you know."

Grinning, he dipped his head. "Uh, you fishing for information, Agent Prentiss?"

"Well… your escapades have been off the rumor radar for awhile. Didn't know if there had been a change in status." She was teasing him now.

Intrigued, he watched as her eyes danced in spite of the slight flush to her cheeks. "What's your interest?" he asked, upping the ante.

The resulting reaction in her amused him. Disconcerted, she licked her lips and then caught the upper one between her teeth. And then he realized that she was actually considering the question and his body went haywire.

Clinching his jaws, he tried to maintain self-control, but he knew if she glanced downward, his secret would be out. The air suddenly got hotter and his lungs fought to get enough breath. He didn't dare say anything; his voice would be a dead give away. Besides, he didn't trust his mouth to behave. So he waited to see where she would take things.

After a nervous swallow, she looked up into his eyes and touched his soul. "I um… well, if…" she rolled her eyes, impatient with her inability to say what she was thinking. Then resolve set in and she looked back at him. "I've been thinking…a lot lately… that I want kids. But… there isn't exactly a Daddy in the wings to um…" she flushed as embarrassment took over. Suddenly her hands in her lap were very interesting and she began to study them.

Leaning a little to see her face, he frowned. "You asking me to…" he didn't dare think it, much less say it. But since when was he one to pass up a dare? "Emily, you want me to be …the father?"

She looked up, her face a mixture of embarrassment and hope. "I…it's awkward, I know….but …."

"There are other ways to go about it, you know?" He said, hoping she'd discount them.

"I know. But somehow an anonymous donor, someone that I don't know anything about….it just….seems wrong. I mean, I know lots of women do it and it works for them, but…" She shrugged helplessly.

He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to try to think. What she was offering him…. God just wasn't that good to him. But could he handle it…the way she was suggesting? He wanted to be so much more than just a sperm donor. Would she let him? And how would he handle his feelings for her? Taking a moment to be brutally honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't. He couldn't go there…not like she was suggesting. Once he allowed himself to sit in on the game, he knew he'd be all in. And despite what she was saying, did she really want what she seemed to be suggesting?

"Emily," he paused, "I'm honored by what you are suggesting. But despite what some might think, I'm kind of old fashioned. A child should have both parents in the home … loving parents. I know it doesn't always work out that way but I don't want to have a kid out there and I'm not part of his life."

Her eyes widened. "Rossi, I wasn't suggesting … I mean…. Of course you'd be… I'd want my child to know her father."

A smile formed as he contemplated a little Rossi that was a miniature of Emily Prentiss. "You're serious here?"

Blushing, she nodded. "We could…um … start tonight."

Grinning wickedly as his body responded to that thought, he nodded. "We could." His mind was screaming against this but for his heart was winning the battle. All the past failures, all the heartbreak and the disappointment… none of it seemed important right now.

They made it to her door in record time. And as he stood, waiting for her to turn the key in the lock, he was filled with angst and anxiousness that he hadn't felt since he was a teenager. Emily Prentiss was letting him in, all the way in and excitement quivered through him.

But then his head kicked in; the big one, not the little one. And as he stepped inside behind her, his hands went to her shoulders and he turned her to face him. There was so much that she wasn't hiding as he gazed into her dark brown orbs, so much that it overwhelmed him. And he knew this would be wrong. "Emily," he whispered.

She looked frightened; like she was afraid he'd changed his mind. And in a sense, he had. "I've never met anyone that I want to be the mother of my babies more than you," he said gently. "But…not this way."

She frowned. "But…I thought…you seemed okay with it…" The disappointment in her face was palatable.

"I want the whole package, Emily. I want the child _and_ the mother. I want you…and I want it to be right."

Her eyes widened with surprise. "You…want _me_?"

"Is that so hard to believe…that I could love you, Emily?"

Afraid didn't begin to describe what her eyes were telling him. He watched as panic crossed her features. And then looking off to the side, she quietly confessed, "Yes, it is."

"Why," he wanted to know.

"You're David Rossi; look in the dictionary under Don Juan and there you are. You don't _do_ long term…not like you're suggesting."

Fighting to hide his disappointment, he studied her for a moment. She wasn't afraid of him, not in the usual sense. Hell, she was the one who'd started this whole conversation. Maybe he should have kept his feelings to himself. Had he misread her? He'd thought maybe she had some deeper feelings for him, something beyond just looking for a sperm donor. Had his inflated ego gotten in the way again?

But as he looked at her, looked into her eyes; he saw a glimmer of something. Hope maybe? So why couldn't she accept what he was trying to tell her? He knew his reputation was…well, pretty bad. But that was in the past… His mind scrambled to find something to say, a way to put her fears to rest. But he knew there was no way, not tonight anyway. But he couldn't give up, not when he had finally given life to his feelings.

"Correction; I _didn't_ do long term, not because I didn't want to. Three times I tried it but with the wrong women. I wanted it; I've always wanted it… a family, Emily …a wife, children, a dog… all of it. Yeah, I sowed some wild oats and I chased just about every skirt that crossed my path. Sometimes it was a game, sometimes I was just feeding the reputation, and sometimes I was just so damned lonely I couldn't stand it anymore. But in case you haven't noticed, I haven't been that man for a long time. That kind of life has lost its charm."

He watched as her eyes grew larger, the darkness of them intense as she tried to discern the truth of what he was saying. And then he saw indecision and hesitation. And in that instant, he saw his chance.

"I'm in love with you, in case you do not understand me here. I've kept it to myself because you didn't seem interested. At first you seemed locked into the reputation and after that, you just seemed interested in a working friendship. And I was okay with that. I can still be okay with that. But what you're asking of me now… I can't do. Not unless …" He could read the shock in her expression. Her face had gone pale and she looked stricken. It was too much and that reality shut him down, so he just stood, watching her.

She glanced away and then refocused on his face. "You…" she hesitated, "you are in love with me? When did that happen?" She asked incredulously. "How?"

A crooked smile crept over his mouth. "I've been falling since we first met. And how? How could I not fall for you, Emily? The way I see it, you are a perfect match for me. Smart, beautiful, and you see through my crap and make me hold the line."

His chest felt like it was going to explode, breathing was so difficult. And he could feel the blood pounding in his head. This was it, his last, best chance at happiness and he wasn't going to let it get away. "I love you, Emily. And I need you. I want us together. And if you want babies, then I want to help you make them and I want to be there to help you raise them. I want your face to be the first thing I see when I wake up every morning and the last thing I see at night. I want to hold you and never let go. I want to fulfill your every need and desire, to love you and protect you, comfort you…" He could see her mind working behind those dark pools of hers and consequently continued to push home his point. "I want to support you in whatever you want to do and celebrate with you when things are good and console you when they aren't. Please Emily, think about this…think hard about it. And if you think you could feel this way about me…"

Putting up her hand and closing her eyes, she stopped him. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach as he watched her face for a sign. And then it leapt with joy when she opened her eyes, amusement dancing in their depths. "You're good…you are damned good," she said in amazement. "You can sell anything." Taking a deep breath she continued, "You um…well, if….I mean, I'm assuming that was a …marriage proposal…and if it was, I want you to repeat that for the vows."

Feeling an excitement that he hadn't felt since he was a kid, he wrapped her in his arms and spun, hugging her close. Then setting her down, he kissed her. "I'd hoped…dreamed a more formal proposal," he said after the kiss. "You know one with champagne and a ring and all…but if you're saying yes, then I'm going with this one."

"I'm saying yes, David Rossi. I'm not sure why I'm saying yes, except that you are very persuasive… and I felt something on that first day too… and I haven't been able to get you out of my head since. I know this is crazy, but…yes."

"We'll find a ring tomorrow…anything you want," he said happily.

"Anything I want?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you think we could… I mean, would it be okay to…"

"Anything you want, Emily. That's my promise, remember?"

"Then, can we get started on that part about making babies? Since neither of us has ever made a baby before, we might need some practice." Suddenly her brow furrowed and she looked at him accusingly. "Tell me you haven't made any babies before."

His heart clinching, Dave leaned in for another kiss. "Actually, I have... with Caroline. But he died a few hours after he was born. I have no doubt that we'll be very successful in our endeavor though. However as they say, practice makes perfect."

.


End file.
